


Three AM

by quicksparrows



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 18:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: He is fascinated by how she draws him to her, fingers wound into the front of his shirt. Cloud breathes in sharply through his nose, deep and intense, and he fumbles to move them inside her room without once breaking contact. What could have been a slow, intense first kiss rapidly shifts to something rapid, almost desperate. He gets the door closed behind them and she pushes him right back against it.





	Three AM

**Author's Note:**

> What if Cait Sith didn't interrupt their Golden Saucer date?
> 
>  
> 
> I haven't written FF7 fic since like 2004, I am screaming.

 

Once, in a dive bar in Sector Four, a woman had taken a stool next to him and struck up a conversation with him. She had been funny and engaging, and they’d made small talk for the better part of an hour, over the course of which she’d pounded back a truly impressive number of drinks. Cloud had laughed when she flirted with him, and she had laughed when he’d gone a little red. He’d picked up her tab that night, wallet fat from an easy job shaking down a loanshark who’d been harassing the slums. Why not?

Nothing about that situation had been unusual to him. After all, he’d always been the sort of guy to like attention from girls, hadn’t he?

But when she’d reached over and put her hand on his arm, letting just her fingertips graze his flesh, slow and leading, he’s gently pulled away and said he should call it a night.

_Do you want to get coffee at my place? It’s just a five minute walk from here._

_No thanks._

She’d smiled.

_It’d be the least I could do, after you bought me all those drinks!_

_I’ve got work to do in the morning_.

A lie, as he could have easily slept until afternoon without losing work, but what was he going to do? Go home with her? Shimmy up her dress and find out what she wore underneath? Somehow he couldn’t see it. Somehow it eluded him, or at least slipped by his mind as a possibility. She’d seemed disappointed.

_The truth is... I just don’t do this kind of thing._

And yet now, Cloud finds himself standing at the hotel room door, fist hovering over its plane with trepidation. Does he knock? Does he turn around and go back to bed, kicking at the sheets and tossing and turning until he accepts he won’t be getting any sleep tonight?

He swallows hard.

He doesn’t really do this kind of thing—

He knocks softly. It sounds perilously loud in the empty hall anyway. There are no windows in the inner corridors of the hotel, lending that hallway an eerie timelessness. It could be any time at all, and not three AM.

Three AM is the same as it is anywhere, even at the Golden Saucer, all the attractions closed and the rowdy drunks sent home and people asleep in their beds. Maybe he should go back to bed, but he finds himself reaching to knock again, and in that moment, the door unlocks with a full metal click and the door opens.

Aerith peers out, beautiful and willowy and without even a trace of sleep. The slightest bit of concern shines in her eyes, but her mouth curves into a smile.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Cloud says. “I just... I was thinking I didn’t want our first date to end.”

She looks away, just for an instant, her smile growing wider. And then, with a coy glance, she says: “Well, everything’s closed now. You’ll just have to come in.”

He can’t take his eyes off her. He leans into her space through the doorway, and she leans in, and for a moment they just breathe the same air, eyes locked. This close, he can see how pure the green of her irises are, almost supernaturally so. He looks at her lips. This close, he has to kiss her.

The instant their lips lock, time slows. He is fascinated by how she draws him to her, fingers wound into the front of his shirt. Cloud breathes in sharply through his nose, deep and intense, and he fumbles to move them inside her room without once breaking contact. What could have been a slow, intense first kiss rapidly shifts to something rapid, almost desperate. He gets the door closed behind them and she pushes him right back against it.

It feels as though every moment they’ve shared since they first met was a prelude to this frenzy. Like something went unexpressed and instead roiled under the surface, waiting for a night like this, a night where they could go on a proper date and pretend, just for a moment, that neither of them have callings beyond their own happiness.

Her lips are so soft. Her touch is so needy, so wanting.

Cloud gets his hands down her sides. Her nightdress is sleek, slippery. It hitches up under his grip, and when he slides his hand over her ass, he discovers she isn’t wearing any panties. He breaks off their kiss. His heart is hammering, his pulse throbbing so fast and hard that he feels like he should just let the adrenaline carry them both away.

“Aerith..."

Her hand palms over the growing bulge in his pants. Up, down. Even in the dim light of her room, her green eyes beam up at him. Up, down. Her lips hover mere inches from his. He might just kiss her again, kiss her breathless, but—

“I want to go down on you.”

For a moment she keeps him there, pinned against the door, hand still roving. The sweatpants he sleeps in are so threadbare she might as well be palming over the head of his bare cock. Her eyes dance.

“Really,” she says.

He can’t help but press forward into her hand.

“Really,” he repeats. “It’s, uh... what I’m best at.”

Her smile broadens and she starts walking backwards towards the bed, and Cloud, like magnets, follows step by step.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first time Aerith had gotten in noteworthy trouble with boys, she was fourteen. Her home room teacher had marched her home to speak to her mother, and in the garden of lemon lilies around their house, her teacher had explained her particular kind of trouble and pronounced her _boy-crazy_ and _distracting._ Her mother had sighed, but she'd smiled it off, too. No one could tell her what had been plain about her daughter for so long.

But being a certain way and being able to explain it are two very different things; Aerith could never explain why any particular boy piqued her interest. It just happened, time and time again.

One was the boy who sat ahead of her in class, one of only three, and he was the one with the kindest eyes. Their meagre class of nine had dwindled from thirty-odd students in just a year, marking the point in which most folk in the slums decided their children were better off learning a trade early. (Or maybe the point where children themselves realized there wasn’t anything ahead of them in school anyway.) Who could care about schooling at that point? The boy with the kind eyes was pretty, and he was a good kisser.

The next boy was a charmer, perhaps even more than her, and she’d been smitten by him fast. He’d worked afternoons at a nearby convenience store, stocking shelves and telling customers which particular items were in short supply that week, and at risk of his job he’d slipped her a chocolate bar. If she's honest looking back, she had only shrugged when he never called on her again, but with him she did learn just how much she liked being felt up, and that she much preferred chasing boys than being chased.

And after that, there had been a few others –– fleeting, hardly memorable –– who had been some combination of sweet or funny or flirtatious, each of whom had caught her eye for some reason and then lost her interest for another.

And then there’d been Zack.

Zack had been a charmer too, but in more of an effortless way, like he wasn't always aware of it. He had been the first she'd really liked, the first she thought would cut her up if he just went off and vanished, and sure enough, he had. But at the time, in their moments together, hadn't it seemed worth it for those moments?

She hasn't really been with anyone like him since. Not until now, anyway.

Her back hits the mattress and he lands on top of her, and in that instant, she thinks she'd like nothing more than to have Cloud lay on her forever, his warm body pressed down against her. She can feel his taut belly through his t-shirt, and the hard bulge of his cock nestled against the bowl of her pelvis. The very first day they met, she'd had a passing thought of what it would be like to make love with him, this man she didn't know at all but felt such an immediate affinity for. She'd had that thought every other day since, waiting for him to come around, hoping he would let down his walls enough to realize what was going on between them.

Now, making out with him and running her hands down his sides and up his back, every moment of waiting feels worth it.

Then Cloud starts making his way south. He presses a kiss to her jaw and her neck and the sharp edge of her collarbone, and along the swell of her breast until he’s stopped by the neckline of her nightdress. Aerith looks down at him and he looks up at her, his blue eyes intense, near luminous, and his hands keep going where his mouth cannot. Her heart hammers and her blood runs hot. His calloused palms grope over the rise of her ribs, to the soft dip of her waist where he squeezes her tightly, and over the curve of her hips. Aerith arches her back, both to press against him and to drag up her hem, but he takes her by her thighs and drags her to the edge of the bed. Aerith almost laughs, delighted, and she’s rewarded with a smile before he averts his gaze. It’s funny to see him lifting her skirts and still manage to be bashful.

“No panties,” he says. There’s a little bit of intrigue. What did he think he’d find there, exactly? Oh, _Cloud._

“Not to bed!” she replies, splaying her legs for him, shifting on the edge of the bed.“I wore nice ones on our date, you know.”

“I should’ve...” he trails, and then seems to think better of any could’ve-would’ves; after all, he’s on his knees in front of her now, and she’s itching for his touch. Aerith feels like her heart has dropped into her clit. He’s so close, but he just runs his fingers along her inner thighs. “You figured this would happen, huh?”

Aerith does laugh then, and she props herself up on an elbow to better look at him. Of course she figured this would happen. It was inevitable. She can say that with just a _look_ , and he makes this little sound at the back of his throat, something like want.

“That’s pretty hot,” he admits.

She responds by grinning and hooking a knee over his shoulder, and he just kisses the inside of her thigh and works his way up. His mouth meets the juncture of her groin and then the soft, fleshy mound of her mons. Aerith lets her head drop back, heart hammering as he gives her a first lick, his tongue soft and wet. _She’s_ wet. And he takes his time, slowly working from back to front and back again, fingers gently spreading her folds, until she feels hot all over and like it's not yet enough.

The only thing greater than hearing a man she likes wanting to go down on her is a man she likes being _good_ at going down on her.

And what could be more delicious than his lips sucking at her, than his nose buried in her pubic hair, than his tongue working long, firm strokes against her? He passes the tip of his tongue over her clit for the first time and the gesture is so startling, so electric that a little involuntary spasm rocks her hips, and she very nearly boxes his ears with her thighs. Cloud makes a pleased sound, muffled against her, and he grips her firmer for a moment, but he doesn’t draw back, not for an instant. Instead, he doubles down, planting his lips around her clit and swirling his tongue — Aerith lets out a gasp, high and breathy.

She laces her fingers into his hair — a tricky thing, sometimes, given the amount of hair product, but her fingers find their way right to his scalp. She tugs delightfully on his roots, and with his face still buried in her cunt, he makes this noise, low and heady and hot. It rumbles through her, and she holds him in place just as he holds her.

“Cloud,” she gasps. “Oh— _that––_ “

He’s got a finger poised at her entrance, and while his mouth never relents or abandons its slow, rhythmic pursuit, that finger presses forward. Aerith feels herself clamp down on that finger like a ballast, and she thrusts her hips in towards his face, which he accepts with the same, dedicated gusto. She looks down and his eyes are closed, eyebrows knitted in concentration, and as he starts to pump that finger in and out, that concentration waivers as he can’t resist a moan, another heavy noise against her flesh. He does something, _something_ that makes her mind fuzz over, flushed in the chest, head spinning.

Aerith comes on his finger and against his mouth.

Her mind is still fuzzy for a moment, but when he gets to his feet she just beckons him in by hooking a foot around the back of his thigh. Without a moment's preamble, he pushes his sweatpants off his hips and crawls overtop her, and she takes his face between her hands and kisses him deeply while he busies himself with lining the head of his cock up with her entrance. Aerith breathes a happy little exhale into that kiss as he presses forward, all the way in with little trouble, and for a beat he just stays there, heavy over her. It's even more delightful when he starts to move, thrusting just hard enough to make the old bed frame creak.

Aerith finds herself deliriously happy, heels digging in and arms around him. Each thrust feels electrifying, delightful. She runs her hands down his sides until she gets a palmful of his taut ass. She gasps when he hits a particularly deep stroke, hitching her knees up, toes curling.

"Aerith," Cloud groans.

"Come for me," she pleads. It comes out a little demanding, a little desperate.

Maybe before that he wanted to hold off, eke out a little more time like this, but at that command, he picks up the pace with such enthusiasm that Aerith almost feels herself moving up the bed. She looks up at his face, hovering above her own. His eyes are closed, his brows knitted in concentration. A bead of sweat works its way down his forehead, and his lips are parted. There's a pulse and a throb to him, and then he slows down again, mouth dropping open entirely.

She's never seen such a blissed out look on his face, and then he opens his eyes. Mako blue, chemically bright, boring down on her even in the dim light. Aerith's teeth graze her lower hip and she realizes she's almost panting, too.

Cloud plunks down at her side, breathing hard, and Aerith nestles into his side, back against him; just that gesture is enough to prompt him to turn onto his side and spoon with her.For a moment they just settle, relaxing in each other's company, easing themselves down. Her heart keeps hammering.

"I figured you wanted to go a little longer," Cloud says, finally.

Aerith casts him a questioning look.

"We have all night, don't we?"

"You want me to stay?"

What a silly question, she thinks, but she just nods, pulling his arms tighter around her. He eases into that, too, and she likes the tangle of their limbs, the odd assortment of pajamas still on their persons. And then something occurs to her:

“Do you think the audience bought it when I slapped you?" she asks. "Do you think it was convincing?”

Cloud chuckles and nuzzles the back of her neck, the tip of his nose drawing a line from her shoulder to the baby hairs at her hairline.

“Don’t quit your day job,” he says.

Aerith laughs — delighted, indignant. _How dare he?_ She reaches back and slaps him on the thigh, which he has to good sense not to retaliate to.

“You should talk, falling like that over one little slap,” she says. “So melodramatic. So much for big strong bodyguard!”

“Oh, that’s it,” he says, and he digs his fingers in her side to tickle her, and Aerith squeals with laughter, and they tussle until they find themselves making love again, over and over until the sun breaks through the curtains, and then — only then, and never again — they fall asleep in each others’ arms.


End file.
